A Barrel of Love
by mirai aria
Summary: Not wanting charity nor pity. If love is all you want. And happiness is what everyone needs, what do you ask for? How much love do you need? One man ponders the weight of need and want. Maybe, all you really need is a barrel of love.


Disclaimer: No, don't own Gravitation. I make no money out of this fic and is purely the product of fangirlness. Besides, if I did own Gravitation… I doubt it'd be as happy and lovely. -chuckle-

A/N: Ahhh. Finally got to edit this one – joy! Much thanks to the people at gmm and **Pato San**, my wonderful wonderful beta, for this fic. Myah! Pato San is awesome! Now I must go and read **Dark Ages** later…. 3 And you guys must toooo This had been fuuun to write and to show people : 3 I hope people like this one too! waves Without further ado, I bring my very first non-Shuichi-centric, "meaningful" one-shot! : 3 Enjoy and I'll let everyone interpret the ending themselves…. Oh! And as usual – any remaining errors are by me. No blame me beta XP.

oOo

**A Barrel of Love**

oOo

"So what's it like being on top?" The female host asked as she edged closer towards the pink-haired Bad Luck vocalist eagerly. The singer could only offer a nervous laugh in response, the kind that gave the impression that he was being humble. But the man watching the recording of the show knew better— he always knew better— and his golden eyes narrowed into slits with a knowing glint while his mouth curved into a small, self-satisfied smile.

"Ano… it's… it's… good..?" The vocalist said finally after a length of time and much nudging and elbowing from both the host, who sat to his right, and the band's keyboardist to his left. The boy ran a hand through his pink hair before turning to the host once more and answering the question again, this time with less hesitation and a little bit more exuberance. "It feels great to be on top. I mean, you get to meet new people and learn many things… it's…. it.…opens a lot of doors for many opportunities…"

"Oh!" The host blurted out, suddenly understanding the full meaning behind the added sentence. The man thought she was seriously overdoing it and made a note to write to the station's manager about it later. "Rumor has it that you've been seeing this famous American celebrity…."

Shuichi flustered in response and a bright red blush spread on his face, clearly visible despite the great distance between himself and the camera. The golden-eyed man knew this was the kind of thing that drew people to the vocalist of Bad Luck. He was so pure, so innocent, and so childish – the boy sold like candy and he basked in his success.

"You really have it for blondes, don't y—"

The rest of the question was drowned out by the telephone ringing and he, upon instinct, reached for the remote control at the center of his desk, right on top of a pile of neatly-piled contracts, and turned the television off before answering it. "It's cold", the thought came to him, suddenly, as he placed the receiver to his ear. For a few moments he wondered if it was because he wasn't wearing his coat, or if it was because his secretary, Yukiko-san, had forgotten to call about his office's faulty air-conditioning again, which was quite plausible considering the time of year: The month for final exams in most conventional Japanese schools. The poor woman must be stressing about her daughters' education and forgetting about work again, he thought, surely; and he was sure, after all, he was _always_ right.

He knew just who was on the phone, too— Who else would call him at this time of night?

"You're working late again, aren't you?" The gruff voice said from the other end of the line. After that there was a pause, a short one that told him the other person was thinking, or suggested that fact. "Your wife called."

"And she made you find me. Ne, Eiri-san?" He said over the phone, smiling slightly as he spun around on his chair and replaced the remote control back on its place, almost exactly where he picked it up. He paused just to hear the breathing on the other side of the phone before continuing in a sure tone. "But you wanted to call me, too, didn't you? Even if she hadn't made you do so. Am I right, Eiri-san?"

"….Think whatever you want, Tohma," was the reply he got. It was abrupt, cold, and almost rude, but he liked it, and knowing how right he had been almost made him want to laugh. Almost. Just a soft chuckle, he thought, would be enough; a sign of victory, maybe. He weighed the pros and cons of letting Eiri hear him laugh over the phone and decided then, only seconds later, that it wouldn't hurt, and whatever damage it didhe could fix later, and easily at that.

He laughed then and followed with an amused remark that earned him more exasperated sighs from Eiri at the other end. "But you know what I think, and I think you miss me."

For once he didn't ask, "Am I right, Eiri-san?", because, to be honest, it was a matter he wasn't entirely sure of. It was something he would never, never ever, admit to anyone, but there were times when he just wasn't sure and he could only assume. At times like this he relied on persuasion. Tohma believed in the importance of confidence, believed that confidence could make a difference and turn right to wrong, if only one played their cards right; and Tohma; Tohma was good at it.

And so, if Tohma believed Eiri missed him and projected enough confidence in it, he knew Eiri would agree with him. Even if he hadn't been entirely right, he would be. He knew.

"Al…right.." Eiri said slowly, forcefully, Tohma could tell. The N-G President knew that if he listened closely enough he would be able to pick up the sound of Eiri turning his head away, to focus his guilty eyes somewhere else. Tohma allowed a small, hollow smile of victory to touch his lips, knowing he was right, but not wishing to delve deeper than that. "Are you coming tonight?" Eiri asked finally, and Tohma imagined the tall blond novelist standing in front of the telephone, staring at the phone itself blandly.

For a while Tohma wondered about what else went through in the conversation the siblings shared with one another. What did Mika say about him? What did Eiri say about him? What did they talk about? Those questions whirled in his mind continuously until he'd had enough and decided to stop them, only to realize a mere second had passed, and he was still on the phone with Eiri. It was deadly silent. Just a few seconds, he took just a few seconds to answer Eiri's query, but he wondered silently if the novelist knew what had just conspired in his intricate mind.

"Of course I'm coming tonight. I need to keep my darling Eiri-san company, and fend off the nasty nightmares as usual, don't I?"

Don't I? The question remained in his mind. Eiri needs me, he thought quietly, needs me to hold him at night and to show him how and what exactly love is, without pain.

"Are—never mind," Eiri muttered over the phone flippantly, as if he'd given up on something. He followed that with a simple "I'll see you" before hanging up, and before the irritating beeping that followed it registered in the blond's ears, he was already running the possibilities of what Eiri could have said. Or had wanted to say but didn't -'_but didn't_' being the clincher.

Tohma liked to think Eiri saw through his charming smiles and confident, almost predatory, stares. He liked to think the lovely boy, his Eiri-kun, could see past that mask of beauty, and see the rotting, dying face infested with blood-sucking maggots; just because it excited him. It was a game, this way of thought. He liked going through life assuming everyone knew what he hid under his sleeve, or at least knew he was hiding something, that he really wasn't just the innocent baby-faced N-G President, and underneath that smile was the devil himself. But he knew the truth, of course, though he refused to believe it for fear of ever having to be caught off guard and maybe something else. It was a game. And that reality was something everyone, himself included, was forbidden from mentioning.

He stared ahead then, pondering about the situation and playing with imaginary causes and outcomes. He liked doing this. It assured him he was on top of everything. He liked knowing he knew the answer to every situation fate could throw his way. He didn't really care much about a bad outcome; in his books, nothing was bad and given a few cards for the round, he could turn a disadvantage into an advantage in no time. _This_ was reality.

The blond reached for the remote control then and turned the TV on again. The tape played automatically and the show resumed from where it stopped while he sat back comfortably in his chair. He placed the remote control back on his desk this time and because he was leaning into his chair he placed it beside the pile, and smirked about his minor display of laziness.

"So, is it true that Yuki Eiri and you are through…?" The host asked after a while, tilting her head so she had a full view of Shuichi. She had her mouth opened in a wide "O" that displayed the make-up perfection done on her lips and face, her eyes were wide, displaying not only curiosity but also her unnaturally long eyelashes.

Shuichi edged away uncomfortably before shooting Hiro a pleading look from his seat and then turning towards the host again. "Ah… well… yeah, that… that's true." The singer finally confirmed with a warm, melancholic smile on his face that made him look far more mature than he usually did. Tohma knew the fans were going to go wild on that one, and that when he approved its airing pictures of Shindou Shuichi from that part of the interview would plague tabloids and magazines' front pages the very next day.

"So, how is this going to affect Bad Luck as a whole?"

The smile on Shuichi's lips widened, though only slightly. "In… no way," he told the host calmly, masterfully hiding the pain and disappointment Tohma knew were under a mask of false triumph. But Tohma knew, and that made him feel a bit more knowledgeable, a bit more Godlike.

"Yuki-sensei hasn't been seeing anyone new but… if he does… will you…." There was a pause and the camera panned closer to get a close-up shot of Shuichi. "What would you feel, Shuichi?" She asked.

Yuki _already _has someone new, Tohma thought in response and he narrowed his eyes dangerously as he stared long and hard at Shuichi who was trying his hardest to keep his fickle, little façade in place. Tohma reached for the remote control again to pause the recording, not to turn the TV off. He allowed himself to sink into his chair deeper, closing his eyes tiredly before lifting a hand to rub the pain out of them. It was getting late and Eiri was expecting him, but what were a couple of minutes, half an hour, when compared to a whole night?

"Eiri.. Eiri.. Eiri-kun," he whispered softly as if the simple utterance of that name brought him more strength, more comfort. Everybody who knew about his little obsession with Eiri blamed him for the 'sudden' change in heart in the young romance novelist. But, of course, if Eiri didn't want him in the first place why would he change his heart then? They didn't know how things worked and chose to jump into unfounded conclusions. Tohma knew how the game worked. Tohma knew what drove people, what made them think, after all, he spent more time than anybody else he knew studying what each and everyone did, and more importantly, _why_. They just didn't understand, didn't see things his way. And he definitely had more foresight than they did.

Hiro had been giving him glares all afternoon, glares which he shrugged off and actually understood the reason behind. If it were him in the guitarist place, and if he hadn't known what he knew about Eiri now, he would have blindly hated himself and his actions, seen only the pain inflicted upon his best friend and nothing more. But he knew, of course, and this was his course of action.

He was proud of it.

Tohma smiled a small, slightly lop-sided smile that rarely ever grazed his lips. Ryuichi had come into his office that afternoon without warning, sauntering towards his desk and seating himself on it like a King before waving his ever-present pink companion gaily and just as easily, declaring Kumagoro wasn't happy. Not many people could do that, if anyone could actually, nobody except Ryuichi and Eiri, and perhaps Shuichi, too, in one of his more reckless moods. Ryuichi knew he could do it because he knew Tohma and knew they were in the same level; and Eiri was Eiri, but Shuichi… the boy did it out of recklessness and maybe a dash of courage, which Tohma knew deserved some manner of reward in itself. Nobody messed with Tohma. Nobody questioned his ideals and that was a fact tested by many an occurrence.

Tohma knew Ryuichi could either be there for no reason at all, or for a big, important reason, and when Shuichi's name became a part of the conversation he knew it to be the latter. His mind told him to be cautious, and he followed every single word that came out of Ryuichi's mouth, though in the end he wasn't quite sure what Ryuichi had planned on doing. He made Tohma promise happiness for everyone.

Ryuichi and himself were no doubt the winners in the situation, with both of their hearts' desires finally free and unattached for them to take and make their own. And the man-boy made him promise happiness for everyone, which was, of course, inevitable. Ryuichi didn't need to ask, Tohma knew, but he asked anyway. And it made the gears in his mind turn as he wondered whatever deep meaning the agreement held underneath its disguising coat of useless childish nonsense. He hated not being sure about something, but he knew it was just the paranoia in him that insisted on making a big deal out of nothing. After all, a big, famous, and successful hotshot like him had always needed to watch his back; always for unsatisfied, even vengeful, opponents.

He reached for the remote control and opened his eyes, focusing on the wide ceiling before resting his gaze on the TV once more.

"…I…I'd… feel.. hurt. I… ." There it was, Tohma pointed out, the flash of pain that flittered across Shuichi's face and remained there for a few moments. It was invisible to many, but not to people like him, and he almost pitied the boy; pitied him for his feeble attempt at making it seem nothing. Of course he didn't like the idea of having Bad Luck lag behind their schedule again, but deep down, he took a perverse pleasure in watching the boy hurt, knowing he had caused so much pain to Eiri.

"I…" Shuichi began laughing nervously, and from his chair Hiro was giving him worried looks. Yes, Hiro loved Shuichi, too, Tohma thought amusedly. Why can't you love him back? Tohma asked Shuichi in his mind. Ask yourself that and think about Eiri.

"I still love Eiri, see… but uh.. well, some things…don't.. don't work that way." The pink-haired vocalist hung his head and for a while he was silent while the camera made close-ups. Finally he bolted from his seat and bowed to the host, then to the audience, mouthing a hasty, yet obviously genuine, apology before stalking out of the set. His guitarist and keyboardist followed after him, apologizing as they did so, and Tohma, uninterested in how the show handled the situation and how Ryuichi had come to save the day again, decided it was time to stop watching.

"Looks like you won't be showing on air."

Tohma rose from his seat and without glancing towards the television, picked up the remote control and turned it off before throwing the remote control onto his desk haphazardly, watching it carefully as it tumbled and disturbed the order on his desk. He didn't want to think about what Eiri would do if he saw that, how much he would hurt if he saw that, and knowing his younger brother Tatsuha, Eiri would know within minutes. It made him want to secretly bug Eiri's line even if he wasn't even going to let the episode air.

What exactly went on in those phone calls Eiri shared with his siblings? With everyone else? What exactly went in that brain?

He gritted his teeth and closed his eyes, forcing back the rebellious thoughts that threatened to destroy the one thing that remained untouched by the doubt and hatred and disgust that ran his life. He liked to think Eiri knew what went on in that brain of his, under that innocent, angelic smile and maybe, Tohma realized, Eiri _did_ know.

His chest tightened and he leaned on his desk, closing his eyes even tighter and furrowing his eyebrows. No, he thought, leave this one alone. Leave this one.

Leave Eiri alone.

He opened his eyes and noticed the several telltale watermarks on the otherwise clean and crisp pending contract on his desk, and he stared. He stared long and hard until he became sick of seeing just the paper, and the innocent stare quickly turned into a withering glare burning with hatred. This was the price of eliteness; the price of Godhood.

Seguchi Tohma was doomed to belittle and hate and doubt every single person so long as they weren't him, weren't as good as him, weren't better than him. And he was at the top of everyone, everyone was beneath him. He was at the top, and it didn't take much because he was different, had always been, different from them to begin with.

People who pretended and hid their real thoughts from him, leaving him to pick them out from them and make things work on his own, people who hated him underneath their warm, loving smiles. "So what it's like to be on top?" He could hear the woman ask in his mind, her voice twisted and deformed to reflect the sickening reality she hid underneath her expensive make-up.

It's Hell.

Stop this, Tohma commanded himself finally as he collapsed into his chair, breathing short, shallow breaths to calm his racing heart. After a long, deep breath he finally found himself with the control he usually had over himself. He smiled a calm condescending smile as he reached for his bottom drawer and pulled out the small, silver revolver he kept in an equally small velvety box for safety's sake. He left the gun on the desk and then walked across the room for his hat and his coat before fishing for the cell phone he left in the latter and dialing a number he knew by heart.

"Hello, good evening," he said over the phone when the person he'd wanted to talk to came on the line with a gruff, slightly irritated tone that quickly turned to an apologetic, respectful one when its owner realized who was on the phone. "Look. There's nothing wrong with it after all. Air it tomorrow. Understood?" He waited for the flustered, confused response and when he got it, he smiled and hung up. He proceeded to put his coat and hat on, taking the time to make sure he looked as perfect in them as he usually did. Perfect and dazzling like the devil himself with that innocent smile and angelic crown of golden hair.

With a soft, amused laugh he headed towards his desk and collected the gun with one hand before slipping it conveniently into his right pocket and heading towards the door. For a while, he felt like succumbing to the insanity Ryuichi played and battled with every single day triumphantly, but he knew he would never be able to do it like Ryuichi, just like Ryuichi would never be able to do it like him, if he wanted to.

He hummed to an old Nittle Grasper tune as he sauntered towards the door, both hands in his pocket, one set of fingers toying with the smooth, deathly cold metal of his gun.

o

**_can't get enough_ utsukushii mayonaka**

**don't let me down**** hashiritsuzukete mo mata**

**one more night**** nigerenai no wa dare**

**kizukitaku mo nai sono shinjitsu  
  
**o

**_can't get enough_ kanashige na kao kara**

**don't let me down**** itami sae fukuetara**

**one more night**** junsui na ai dake**

**tookunai mirai kanaeru sa**

o

The sound of his own singing voice was alien to his ears, but he sang anyway, finding the lyrics strangely amusing and fitting. He broke into quiet laughter again before realizing, suddenly, how late it must be. He quickened his pace then and stopped right in front of the door. He reached his left hand towards the doorknob and stopped, wondering quietly where he could get strawberry shortcakes at this time of night. He knew if he thought hard, he'd come up with an answer.

He would make Eiri happy, just like Ryu would Shu.

He would do whatever it took to make Eiri happy and he knew just the thing to make him happy.

oOo

__

"Kumagoro isn't so happy, you know no da?" Ryuichi sat on his desk and began swinging his legs back and forth like a five-year-old given a new toy. "Shuichi cried on the show today, Kumagoro tried to make him happy but he couldn't…" The Grasper lead-vocalist looked up and stared at the white ceiling before finally continuing in a slightly happier tone, "So Kuma-chan gave him a kiss! … But he was still sad, na no da."

"You know why he's sad, ne, Tohma?" Ryuichi let himself fall flat on his back on the desk and began manipulating the pink plush in his arms so it was facing the blond N-G President and moving its small, round arms as if it were real.

"I do. But it can't be helped." He told their lead vocalist, smiling down at him benevolently without a shred of disgust towards the otherwise childish antics. Ryuichi understood him more than anyone else did and it was something they never talked about, but both knew. That was for sure. It was no hypothesis, no assumption- just pure, unadulterated, and time-tested truth.

"I know. Ryu-chan knows Tohma. Naaa…" Ryuichi sat up and twisted around to push the pink plush into the blond's open arms. Tohma accepted the tiny plush and wrapped an arm around it, making sure it faced Ryuichi, and the Sex God in turn could see his friend safe in his arm.

"But, you know, Shuichi will pull through.." Ryuichi said quietly, staring at his plush friend first before tilting his head up to make contact with his friend's amber eyes. They stared at each other and Tohma suddenly felt uncomfortable under that gaze. Those brown eyes could be just like his- cold and calculating, cruel and assessing. This was the disadvantage of having someone close to your level. They knew. Not that it fazed him. No, Ryuichi would never be able to crack a poker face that took years and years to craft, to master, but he could intimidate, even worry, perhaps, the face underneath it. But no, he wasn't threatened; just... affected.

"I'll make him pull through," Ryuichi finished seriously. He took a deep breath and paused thoughtfully then. "We profit here, don't we…Tohma?" He sat up and motioned for Tohma to hand his Kuma to him, which Tohma did, before jumping off the desk. "You get Eiri and I… get Shuichi." He paused and muttered, "There's this girl who thinks she can have Shuichi all to herself but… well, Kuma and I will just have to prove her wrong, no da!" He broke into tiny giggles before turning sharply towards Tohma and grinning.

"So in the end… everyone will be happy, ne? I'm happy, you're happy. Shuichi will be happy… because I'll make him happy… and…" Ryuichi planted his hands on the desk and leaned forward so he was making contact with the blond's amber eyes again, "…you'll make Yuki-san happy, too, ne, Tohma?"

"Won't you, Tohma?"

He smiled, knowing he had succeeded in keeping a calm, unaffected face. Not hoping but knowing he did. "Yes, of course." He replied confidently and moved for the counterattack. "You will, too, won't you?"

Ryuichi threw his head back and childish laughter erupted from deep within his throat. "Of course, na no da! Kuma and I will!" He spun around and puffed his cheeks suddenly.

"Nah, Tohma, we have to go now. Sakano might call K-chan and Kuma doesn't like getting nasty bullet holes in him anymore, so we'll be off now, na no da!" The lead-singer spun around and began tip-toeing towards the door. Tohma thought it was amazing how Ryuichi continued like this. Different people had different ways of dealing with things. While he basked in power and glory, Ryuichi liked being in as much anonymity and mystery as he could get into, preferring to be underestimated than feared and known to be brutal… like him.

"Promise, no no da, okay? You'll make Yuki-san happy, neee?"

"I promise."

  
oOo

  
And in the end, he too, would be happy.

  
oOoOo  
OoO  
o

:D So how was it? Remember, comments and criticisms are moreee than welcome :D Drop moi a review…. -runs to finally read **Dark Ages** and a huge backlog of Gravitation fanfics- (XD…still having problems with blond and blonde :-O…)

(Don't you just hate how you can't do the happy, creepy, Tohma-ish smiley face with FFnet's new uploading system? X3)  
  
PS. Much thanks to Aja-sama/imayb1 for pointing out the errors I missed : 3


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